Demons of the Night
by DAForever62442
Summary: When Edmund has a horrible nightmare, Peter is there to listen.Golden Age, one shot. The story's much better than I make it sound. READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE! Rated T for nightmares, intensity, and dream violence. Brotherfic. EDITED/RE-POSTED


Summary: When Edmund has a horrible nightmare, Peter is there to listen. Golden Age, one shot. The story's much better than I make it sound. READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTE! Rated T/M for nightmares, intensity, and dream violence. Brotherfic. As always, no slash or incest.

**A/N: **This is pretty dark stuff. That wasn't my intention, I wanted a nightmare that was bad enough to get this reaction out of Edmund that wasn't the Witch turning his siblings to stone. Golden Age. Kind of long for a one shot, but there was a lot of imagery I couldn't bear to part with. Especially in the beginning. I hope I did their characters justice...

**Warning:** There is detail given about a particularly awful nightmare, which I will say involves killing. High T, I don't think it's quite an M, but please tell me if you think otherwise.

I post all my disclaimers on my profile. I don't think this is against the rules, but tell me if it is, I haven't looked into it... As always, R&R

Edmund wakes in a cold sweat, wrapped in strong arms. He doesn't know where he is, who the arms belong to, whether they are in his nightmare or in reality. Friend or foe. He fights, twisting, trying to break free. But the arms are too strong. They restrain him, keeping him in their grasp. He hears screaming, but in his daze he can't register where it is coming from. If only the screams would stop... If only his throat wasn't so sore... If only he could think strait...He realizes with a start that the screams are coming from his own throat. He closes his mouth, and abruptly the screaming stops. A painful, feverish feeling creeps over him, engulfing him, consuming him. He curls up on himself, not knowing where he ends and the pain begins. All he knows is the fevered delirium, this never-ending pain. A bone-deep chill lingers in him, filling his blood with ice. He cries out, he can't help it, the pain, the confusion, it's all too much. "Ed, wake up!" someone whispers, terrified. Someone is shaking him, trying to rouse him. To Edmund, the voice sounds as though it is from the distant past, nothing more than a memory. His breathing comes in shallow gasps, but is becoming more steady. That voice... he _knows_ that voice...

Edmund opens his eyes. Peter's face is above him, looking worried, then relieved that the younger king is awake. He untangles the Just King from the covers that are restricting his movements, and helps him to sit up against the pillows before sitting next to the Just King. Edmund's surroundings are beginning to make sense. He is in his quarters at Cair Paravel. Peter, the High King, is with him, attempting to comfort him. Tears begin to blur Edmund's vision, and he hides his face in Peter's night clothes. "Are you alright?" Peter whispers. He still sounds terrified. Edmund realizes that the High King is speaking to him. "I-I don't know," he says shakily. "I hope so," he adds quietly. Both kings are silent. Edmund's breathing begins to slow down, his mind slowly begins to clear. He is tired, but afraid to go to sleep, for fear the demons will come again. Edmund looks at his brother, sees a question in the older king's face. _Do you want to talk? _The ability to speak without words is invaluable in court, and the brothers have nearly mastered it. Edmund considers. He knows he _wants _to, but not if he is _able _to. Two months ago, Edmund would have just pushed Peter away, locked him out entirely. He, Edmund, had been so sure that he _didn't need _anyone. How wrong he had been. He needs Peter, he knows that now. Edmund sighs, and turns to face his brother. Peter notices the younger king's hesitation, and nods. "I-I think I'm alright...at least, I don't feel delirious anymore. You know about the nightmares, obviously. Honestly, they're not usually as bad as that." Edmund doesn't mention the countless times he's woken up terrified and drenched in sweat, feeling as if he really is back in Jadis's icy prison. Edmund works hard to make sure his brother doesn't find out. Knowing will only make Peter worry even more.

Edmund takes a deep breath and looks strait at the High King. "Usually, I'm _there_ again. Sh-she c-comes in, and you and Susan and Lucy are with her." The image of Jadis's icy blue prison, the terror, the cold, flashes before Edmund's eyes, and he shivers slightly. Peter wraps his arms around Edmund, trying to make the cold and pain go away. The Just King rests his head against the elder's chest and continues in a shaky voice, "You're all tied together, trying to reason with her, to make her let you all go. But you can hardly speak, all three of you have been beaten pretty badly. I want so much to help you, to let you all go. To let her take me instead, to buy you more time. I'm chained to the wall, and my legs and arms aren't working. She looks at me, takes out a knife, hands it to me. Takes out her wand, and she-she m-makes me..." Edmund can't go on. He remembers the horror of seeing his siblings-_Peter_-like that. What Jadis made him, Edmund, do. Tears stream down his pale face, and once again he hides them in his brother's night shirt, arms wrapped around the older king's neck. His breathing becomes shallow, uneven, until he is hardly breathing at all. A dull pounding begins in Edmund's head, both from exhaustion and the nightmare. "Breathe, Ed, breathe," Peter instructs. He tries to remain calm for Edmund's sake, though his heart is racing. Edmund tries to do as his brother says, but finds that he can't. It's all too much-the supportive, comforting arms of his brother.

The images flashing behind his eyes. Jadis. Susan. Lucy. Peter. The knife. The blood. The horror at what he had done. Edmund's breathing slows somewhat, so he is finally able to tell his brother the last part between gulps of air. Peter needs to know. "Sh-she m-makes me... k-kill you." Breathing once more becomes a challenge, and Edmund gasps for air, he can barely get the last part out, tears cascading down his pale face. "Y-you a-and the g-girls. A-and I-I'm just left there, alone..." Peter looks scared, then horrified that anyone could be so evil (Jadis, obviously, not Edmund). Edmund begins to sob, dreadful, heart-wrenching sobs. Sobs that tare at the HIght King's heart, that make him want revenge on someone who is already dead. Peter's arm shakes as he pulls the younger king onto his lap, letting the younger king cry into his shirt. Peter drops kisses into his brother's dark hair, hugging him to his chest. "Sh, Ed, it's alright. She's dead, she can't hurt you or me or the girls any more. Aslan killed her." They lay there for a while, Edmund still on top of Peter, face hidden in the older king's night shirt. "Has this happened often?" Peter sounds hesitant, as if he might not really want to know, but feels it is duty, as brother and king, to protect Edmund. Even if the danger is only an illusion. Edmund pulls himself up to face his brother. "Not that particular one, if that's what you mean. That was the first time."

Edmund chews his lip, wondering if he should tell. It would certainly scare the High King, no doubt about that. It would certainly worry him, and Edmund does not like to be the cause of his brother's worrying or fright. Edmund does not like to see the pain on his brother's face. But if he doesn't tell, Edmund is sure it would consume him, eat at him like a parasite, haunt him until his dying day. He'd probably end up telling eventually. He looks Peter strait in the face. "There is one more thing. About the dream." Peter looks at the Just King. "I'm listening." Edmund takes a deep breath, and steals himself for what he must say. "I haven't told you the worst of it." He hesitates, not wanting to go on. Not wanting to reveal how truly scared he is. But he has Peter's attention. "In the dream, I had _wanted_ you three out of the way. I wanted all the power for myself, to be able to answer to nobody. To have total control. The Witch had promised me that. With you out of the way, there was nobody to stop my rise to power, nobody to challenge me." Peter opens his mouth to speak, but reconsiders and closes it. Edmund continues, his voice slightly hoarse. "Then, too late, I had realized my mistake. I _didn't _want you and Susan and Lucy dead, I never had. Jadis had influenced me to want all that. But it was too late. You were already gone." Edmund's voice falters, and he looks up at his brother, tears filling his eyes, misery clouding his face. The High King looks downright terrified at what his younger brother had been dreaming. Yet there is also a tinge of helplessness in the king's blue eyes. However he might want to, Peter, nor anyone else, can change the past. The past that has haunted them both, showing it's ugly face when they least expect it.

Edmund knows that what he wants to say might destroy any progress he has made since Beruna. But he needs to hear that he is wrong, needs to know that what he's thinking is untrue. He needs to hear _Peter_ say it. "I can't help thinking that maybe the dream was showing me my true self-thereby making any progress I've made a waste. That really, I'm this horrible person, who would go to any lengths to gain power, that I'm just pretending to be someone I'm not." In response, Peter hugs Edmund so tightly that he is, effectively, pinning the younger king to his chest. "You know that's not true," says Peter firmly. "You were willing to die, for me, the High King, and for Narnia. Aslan chose you to rule with us. You were willing to do anything to stop the White Witch, no matter what the cost to yourself." He turns Edmund's head so that they are face to face. "You are _not_ a horrible person. You are the most deserving of any of us to be ruler. You were wiling to go to any lengths to right your wrongs." Unable to move, Edmund simply lets the High King comfort him, basking in the wonderful feeling that he, Edmund, is loved, despite his sins. Peter kisses the top of his head, and loosens his hold on his brother slightly. By now, Edmund is fighting sleep, eyes threatening to close. It wouldn't do to fall asleep in council tomorrow. Edmund wraps his arms around Peter. "I love you, Pete," he says sleepily. Peter looks surprised, but not unhappy. Edmund never says that, he isn't one to show affection. "I love you too, Ed."

**A/N: **Too dark? Reviews make me very happy...Hopefully when summer comes and I have better access to the Internet I'll be able to post more stories, I have a bunch I've been working on.


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